Is Calling Everyone ‘-san’ Really Enough?

Recently, more and more companies have begun encouraging employees to address one another as ‘___-san’ rather than by job titles such as department manager or section chief. It is often said that the growing popularity of this ‘-san culture’ reflects a shift toward valuing and respecting individuals as people rather than defining them by their positions or titles. The goal is to create a workplace where everyone feels comfortable expressing their opinions freely. One of the advantages of using -san is that it allows people to address one another with a consistent level of respect without placing too much emphasis on factors such as gender, title, age, or seniority. Because everyone is addressed in the same way, some believe that the practice helps foster a greater sense of psychological safety in the workplace. I can certainly understand the reasoning behind this and appreciate its intended purpose.

More recently, news reports have highlighted the spread of ‘-san’ policies in elementary schools as well. An increasing number of schools are instructing students to address their classmates with -san instead of using nicknames. One reason often cited is that nicknames can sometimes become a source of bullying. However, there is ongoing debate over whether regulating even the way children address one another may hinder free and natural communication.

Personally, I believe that the most important thing is for people to be called by the names they themselves prefer. For that reason, I feel somewhat uncomfortable with making the use of -san a mandatory company-wide rule. A name is, in many ways, a label that represents a person—something akin to a stage name—and I believe an individual’s wishes regarding how they are addressed should be respected. Moreover, I sometimes wonder whether workplaces where -san has become firmly established are, in effect, preserving a certain distance between employees. Perhaps maintaining that distance allows people to feel more secure, and calling one another -san becomes a way of managing interpersonal boundaries. That, too, may contribute to a subtle and unspoken sense of comfort.

At Sound House, the company I founded, we firmly believed from the very beginning that employees were family. We called one another by our names, just as close family members do. We shared meals almost every day, traveled together, and often went overseas as a group. There was never any distinction made between men and women, either. Looking back, I sometimes miss those days when we were always together, living by the spirit of “we are all fellow travelers in life.” Yet, despite being the company I founded, the culture that existed in those early years changed dramatically. One sign of that change was the gradual adoption of the practice of addressing everyone with -san within the company. I do not believe this is inherently a bad thing, but I do think this transition deserves some explanation.

Sound House was founded by me after years of running businesses in the United States, and from the outset I embraced an American-style approach to management. We placed little emphasis on formality or rigid rules. Employees were free to dress as they liked, and we valued relationships that felt more like friendships than traditional employer-employee hierarchies. I even find myself reminiscing about the days when my dog would roam freely around the office, happily greeting everyone. In many ways, the atmosphere within the company felt anything but traditionally Japanese.

Because most of our employees were young in those early years, everyone quickly became close. I joined them and people were simply called by the names they preferred. It was not uncommon for employees to be known throughout the company by the nicknames used by their close friends. As a result, I believe we created a remarkably flat organization.

My American name is Rick, and after spending many years being addressed that way, it felt completely natural for people to call me “Rick” despite my being the head of the company. The very first person we hired in accounting was considerably older than I was, yet no one felt compelled to add -san to her name; everyone simply called her by her first name. Some female employees were affectionately addressed with -chan, while others preferred the nicknames they had used since their school days. Before long, both inside and outside the company, people addressed one another like close friends. On one occasion, a visitor to the office even asked me, “Is that your wife?” Apparently, our interactions with employees appeared that close. Rather than finding that embarrassing, I considered it a source of pride. That sense of closeness was precisely the corporate culture I had always hoped to build.

The turning point for this American-style Sound House culture came in 2011. I stepped away from my role as company president for four years in order to conduct research into ancient history and write my article, The Harmony of Japan and the Jews. During that time, I entrusted the company to an acquaintance. The new president instructed all employees to address the company president with -san. From that point on, the practice spread throughout Sound House, and little by little, the American-style mindset that had defined the company began to fade.

Today, for example, calling a female employee by her first name without adding -san can, in some cases, lead to complaints. Even using ‘-chan’ now requires caution. I am probably much older than the parents of many of our younger employees, and I often find myself thinking of them as if they were my own children. Nevertheless, because more people now believe that using -chan is inappropriate, I have only recently begun making a conscious effort to draw a line between myself and my employees. To be honest, that means creating a certain distance, which is not something I particularly welcome. It sometimes feels as though we have moved from the rigid Showa era into the supposedly freer Reiwa era only to become even more bound by rules, with people maintaining greater emotional distance from one another.

That said, there is one thing I still struggle to understand. Some employees say they do not wish to be addressed without honorifics, yet when they meet guests from overseas, they have no objection to being called simply by their names. If a foreign guest addresses them that way, they smile and greet them warmly. Yet if I do exactly the same thing, why do some employees become upset? Having spent roughly half of my life overseas, I suppose that, at heart, I remain partly American in my way of thinking. Still, I have come to accept this as part of the changing social climate of our time.

In the end, my conclusion regarding how people should be addressed in the workplace is quite simple: people should be called by the names they themselves wish to be called. Corporate culture is not determined by forms of address. True freedom in communication can only exist where there is mutual respect and trust. Respecting others does not mean imposing a single naming convention throughout a company; it means respecting the way each individual wishes to be addressed. Whether that is -san, a nickname, or simply their name without any honorific at all does not matter. What truly matters is a corporate culture that respects individual preferences, values human relationships, and is built upon mutual trust.